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Tuesday, September 21, 2010

current event: Fairhope, AL



Born and raised in Mobile, Alabama, I no longer call it "home." My parents have moved to the eastern side of Mobile Bay to the small town of Fairhope. It is an uncomfortable feeling at times to not go home to a place of memories and experience, however, I have spent enough time in Fairhope through out my life to hold at least some connection to it. Not to say that it is time that offers this connection, but luckily time is what I was given. Growing up, I was fortunate to summer "over the bay" at my grandparent's home on the water. There, my brother and I enjoyed boating, sailing, fishing, swimming, watermelon-eating, and one rather shocking annual event.

Between the months of June and September, a natural phenomenon occurs on Mobile Bay. It is called a Jubilee. No one knows exactly how or why or when it happens, but local lore will provide you with some possible explanations and a definite recipe. For example, it always occurring in the hours immediately preceding dawn, during an incoming tide, with an easterly wind, and when two water masses of salt and fresh water meet.

It only occurs on the eastern shore of the bay in the area on, and north and south of, the Fairhope coastline.

The bay, consisting of brackish water (a fresh and saltwater mix), is fed from five rivers in the north and feeds into the Gulf of Mexico in the south. From the northern rivers and delta region come decaying leaves and sediment. If the conditions are just right, the organic matter on the bay floor can rapidly lose oxygen. This depletion drives the fish to the surface seeking oxygenated water.

Not only to the surface. The fish come right up to the coastline. And to fulfill every young fisherman's dream, the usually hard-to-catch-fish are stunned into a comatose state.

JUBILEE!

Residents along the bay, who know how to spot the right conditions the day before, will stay up into the night to check on the waters with flashlights and see if a jubilee has occurred. If he finds the shallow waters stocked with fish, crab, shrimp, and eels, then he runs to ring the jubilee bell. The bell wakes his neighbors and they ring their respective bells and the early-morning-noise continues up and down the bulkhead until everyone is out on the water in their pajamas scooping up breakfast.

People bring gigs, shovels, and nets to catch the seafood (an incredibly easy task--perhaps with what some may say is an unfair advantage). Then, they throw their treasured catches into anything that can hold them: trashcans, baby pools, wheelbarrows, pick-up trucks, and refrigerators.

It is a very communal ritual that people will drive in the early morning all the way from Mobile to join in for the fun and free food. Free food that may feed many hungry families in times of recession.

The origin of the name "jubilee" is unknown, but it is a word found in slave spirituals used to mark times of celebration. The day after a jubilee feels like a holiday. With beach parties, cookouts, and crab boils, there is enough food for everyone and enough for the rest of the summer as well!

Mobile Bay is the only place in the world where this natural phenomenon occurs. There is record of it happening as far back as European settlement in 1702. It has happened just about every year and, frequently, more than once a year.

However, since the BP Oil Spill in the Gulf, there has yet to be a jubilee. The "season" ends at the end of this month and residents are concerned if there will ever be a jubilee again.



2 comments:

  1. Oh, wow.

    Tom, I was reading your post and was getting all excited in anticipation of this "jubilee" you described! It sounded like so much fun and so unique! I don't even live anywhere near there, (even though I love Fairhope - and Point Clear - some great memories at The Grand) I was so intrigued by your description because I had no idea that such a phenomenon even occured there in the Bay.

    ...And then I read the final two sentences.

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  2. Yep it's pretty scary.

    However, the sun still sets.

    Tea Time at the Grand holds a special place in my "home." I've been sneaking in there for free cookies and tea since I could ride a bike.
    Shh!

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